Rescuing the Princess

About the author:
I am currently writing a short novel, snippets of which I have uploaded on the page "Alien (working title)". I'm really rather proud of it, so do take a look. My best complete works are probably "The Princess and the Dragon" and "The forgotten tale of Sun
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Sunlight dapples over the cracked, sprouting earth. Tufts of greyish weeds feebly hang their necks towards the Sun, despite its omnipresent scowl casting a harsh wave of heat over the forest. The wild heather is limp, and the usually lush landscape bears more resemblance to a moor than a forest. 2 men stumble down a beaten track through which a stream once ran, their waterskins limp and their legs heavy. The knight, bearing all his armour in a ridiculous fashion, swelters in his muscles, while the skinny frame of his scribe seems close to snapping in two from heat. Mud clings to their clothes from falling in the river to the north, and though it is only midday, they have almost reached the destination that over a month of travelling has led them to.

Bearing a wild-eyed stare of excitement, the knight babbled “I just can’t wait to see her face when we slay that dragon. She’ll be all scared, but then, like, I guess she’ll like me, ‘cos I’m the one that saved her, right? Yeah, she has to fancy me if I save her.”

The scribe, having listened to such nonsense ramblings for over a month, replied “That being said, sire, you have little idea of what this maiden even looks like. She may bear more resemblance to the rear end of a horse rather than the ditsy, dainty frame I’m sure is enchanting your imaginings.”

The knight seemed not even to notice the pessimistic views of his scribe, rather became even more enthusiastic about how beautiful this maiden might be.

“So, she was heir to the English throne, right? Sussex, or wherever? But, I heard her Mum was from Germany or whatever, and you know German chicks; they are hot! So, I’m thinking, she’s got to be some sort of blond bombshell. And if she’s been locked in this tower God knows how long, she won’t have been outside, so she must still be fair and youthful. And I bet she’s got these really nice rosy cheeks, and like-”

The endless stream of waffle spewed from the knights face ceased not until he came into a clearing, 40 miles from the nearest hamlet, and spied the great castle in which the princess was locked.

The men had been walking downhill for 3 miles at least, and the valley behind the castle met in steep-sided spendor. A few goats grazed on the steep, dry grass that grew there. Around the castle there were a great many lakes and streams which had kept the grassland lush, and wild onions were growing. The castle itself was quite a simple, small, 3 turreted beast, with moss in every crevice and chimes over every window. The castle would be incredibly easy to siege, were it not for the great, savage blue-green giant that roamed it, keeping the princess prisoner inside. And to think, just days before her wedding day the dragon had stolen her! She’d been lost almost a year, and her fiancé was close to losing his patience. It had been quite the scandle.

The dragon, for now, was nowhere to be seen. The knight and his scribe crossed over the fields towards the castle without any trouble at all. They wandered the wide corridors at length, attempting to find the princess.

“It’s not very girly, is it?” The knight said, fingering a neat iron clock hanging by red curtains.

“I’d expect rather more flowers and such, m’lord, ‘cept seems clear this girl is rather more fascinated by fire.” The scribe had found several paintings and sketches of flames, signed by the princess’ name.

An audible expression of an explicit nature came from the west-facing window, but the 2 men saw nothing as they turned. Tutting at the foul language, the knight turned back around to find the dragon facing him from the other end of the large hall leading to the opposite turret. The knight charged, wielding his sword high. The Dragon stayed still until the knight had reached about halfway into the hall, at which point he coughed a flame towards the knight, which caught a flammable liquid and created a hoop of impenetrable flame around the knight. The scribe crept into the door-frame, watching intently.

The Dragon dropped its wings, allowing another knight the leap spritely from its back. Removing a leather cap she clipped “Well well well. I suppose you’re here to rescue me, aren’t you?”

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